


Sorry, Wrong Number

by redeem147



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Gen, Humour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-09
Updated: 2011-08-09
Packaged: 2017-10-22 10:45:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/237244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redeem147/pseuds/redeem147
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spike comes home with a soul and a bottle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sorry, Wrong Number

The more he drank, the more courageous he grew. “Screw the bloody soul,” he exclaimed. “I’m going to see Buffy.” He half crawled his way to Revello Drive, dragging the almost empty bottle behind him. It was not his first of the evening.

 

He’d walked this way a hundred times. Maybe a thousand. But he’d been away a whole summer, and for some reason all the houses looked the same. He squinted as he looked up at the numbers beside the door. “Aha, Slayer!” he shouted, waving the bottle in the air. “I’m home!”

 

He staggered up the driveway, stumbling as he came to the front door. As he fell against it, it swung open. But as he tried to step inside, he hit an invisible wall. “Bitch!” he screamed. “You univ...uninvi...You let me in!” He pounded against the apparent nothing. “Bitch! Bitch! I love you, you bitch!”

 

A middle-aged woman in a faded housecoat came to the door. “Shut up, you fool. Get out of here, or I’m calling the police!”

 

Spike looked up with bleary eyes. “Who the hell are you? Where’s Buffy?”

 

“There’s no Buffy here! Scoot!” She slammed the door in his face, and he heard her lock the deadbolt.

 

“She’s gone.” He looked up at the door in despair. “She moved. I’ve lost her.” His anger turned to maudlin moaning as he took another swig from the bottle. “My sweet Buffy. I hurt you.” The tears started down his cheeks. “You couldn’t stay in your own house. I spoiled it. Oh, god.” He started to crawl down the front steps when he passed out.

 

Buffy was passing 1640 Revello on her way home from patrol. She paused when she heard a familiar voice. A man was crawling down the front steps of Mrs. Jones’ house, when he stopped and lay still. His shirt was blue and his hair two-toned, but she’d know that back anywhere. She ran up the driveway and bounded across the lawn. “Spike?” She tipped his head up, but he was unresponsive. “You idiot. Where have you been?” She kicked at the bottle lying beside him with disgust. “Stupid vampire.” Picking him up and throwing him over her shoulder, she carried him home.

 

He was rather surprised to awaken to a blinding, non-chip induced headache and a New Kid’s on the Block poster.


End file.
